


Hundred Spaces

by csaber



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-11-19 12:14:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 10,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11313180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/csaber/pseuds/csaber
Summary: 100 drabbles in 20 weeks on Griff Ryder and the people surrounding him.





	1. Griff Ryder - Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> My first real Mass Effect fic was a response to a drabble challenge on the Jedi Council Forums. Since both of my Commander Shepards got 100 drabbles to their stories, I figured that my Ryder should get the treatment, too. Enjoy!

**1\. Valor**

This shore leave was long overdue.

Serviceman Delarosa thanked the bartender and passed down the next round of shots. "I say we toast to the guy who saved our asses on the _Wayward_. Whose quick thinking—" A surge of laughter from nearby. " _Whose quick thinking_ in the cargo bay gave us the drop on those pirates."

Two yeses from her squad. The "no response" came from said quick thinker.

"It was nothing special," he said. "But I won't say 'no' to an excuse for more alcohol."

Delarosa raised her glass. "To the valor—and ridiculous humility—of one Serviceman Ryder."

 

**2\. Honor**

On a middle-of-nowhere colony like Tiptree, even a visiting Alliance patrol became a Big Event. From how one of the soldiers turned his downtime into a meet-and-greet, the feeling went both ways.

"You're from the Citadel?" Hilary asked. "It's probably nothing like this place."

Serviceman Ryder shrugged. "Here I can remember everyone's names. Not possible when you're surrounded by millions of people."

"If you're okay with memorizing one more name, my brother's an Alliance pilot. Jeff Moreau. If you ever bump into him, say hi for me?"

"Jeff Moreau," Ryder said with a smile. "Sure thing."

 

**3\. Sacrifice**

"I would've been fine," Ishida said.

Ryder lay on a bed in the _Mindanao's_ med bay. "Maybe, but I had my shields up. No point arguing about it now, anyways."

Boarding a suspicious merchant freighter turned into a slaver ambush and a hostage situation. One moment Ishida was in cover, waiting for his shields to recharge, the next the door behind him opened to more hostiles. Then Ryder was between him and them, soaking and returning fire.

Ishida sighed. "Well, try not to make a habit of it. Please."

"Can't promise that. But I might work on boosting my shields."

 

**4\. Defeat**

If Captain Gupta had her way, bad politics would have no place in the Alliance military. On the _Mindanao_ , she ensured that performance and personal conduct determined who rose and fell—not a family name, no matter how much a wayward relative might have blackened it. Alliance Command had other ideas.

The paperwork made this discharge especially difficult, but the worst part was telling Serviceman Ryder about it in person. He'd been waiting for the blade to drop ever since the news got out.

"I understand," he said, mustering a ghost of his usual grin. "It's been an honor, ma'am."

 

**5\. Victory**

Waking up was a small victory, but when starting from scratch, even baby steps mattered.

They'd land on Habitat 7, bask in the tropical sunshine, then get to work. Dad would take point, because Dad. Sara would stay a step behind him, because Sara. And he would bring up the rear, probably struggling to keep up. After a few thousand times, picturing those scenes was like breathing. The Golden World slideshow playing on the med bay's big display made it even easier.

An asari doctor stopped by the bed he was sitting on. "Griffin Ryder? Let's get you checked out."


	2. Alec Ryder - Long Shadows

**6\. Name**

Of all the things to find buried in ice…

Past the viewport, the device pointed at the abyss beyond the Sol system. Twin rings spun around a pulsing blue core. All the experiments said it was some kind of long-range transportation system. Finding out where it led, however…

"Ryder!"

Alec blinked. The _Beacon's_ cramped bridge returned to frame the view. "Sir?"

"You're quieter than usual," Jon Grissom said. "That's saying something. However this ends, we're about to make history. Lighten up before we take the dive."

Gaze glued to the device, Alec took a deep breath. "Aye-aye, sir."

 

**7\. Title**

"Pirates down, ruins accessed, scientists happy. Another day in the life," Sara said.

As she finished her story, she reached for the ladle and a third helping of Ellen's stew. Not to be outdone, her brother followed suit. It was a conversation for three, not four. Alec could count his contributions on his hands. The kids were doing well in the Alliance, however. Alec wanted to attribute that to his doing.

Everything else, however… that was a battle he lost a very long time ago. _"Maybe the problem is that you're approaching them as an N7,"_ Ellen once told him.

 

**8\. Number**

Five hundred thousand versus one hundred.

Against five hundred thousand enemies, a hundred soldiers stood little chance. Equipment, supplies, fortifications, terrain, none of that mattered. The enemy force had the manpower to overcome it. For all the heroic, epic stories about them, Leonidas and his Spartans still died to a man at Thermopylae.

Every day, Alec Ryder added and subtracted to the codebase here and there, tweaked a module for greater efficiency. The program itself changed with each new experience.

But five hundred thousand lines of code raced against a deadline a hundred days ahead. It—SAM—had to win.

 

**9\. Date**

"I'll see you in Andromeda," Alec said.

With that, the kids stepped off the tram and started down the hallway to their cryo bay.

_"I'll see you in Andromeda."_ And not just the kids, _his_ kids. In that bay lay a pod for one Elizabeth Reilly. He looked forward to that reunion, to seeing the looks on his kids' faces (after they inevitably punched him for keeping the secret). Even if he didn't live to see it happen—Andromeda no doubt had its dangers, and Pathfinders were the first to face them—the three of the four who mattered would.

 

**10\. Legacy**

The aliens patrolled in pairs, their base a gray-green parasite gripping the spire. His first chance to get out on the field, and he spent it on solo recon. _Here's hoping six hundred years can change a man,_ he once mused. If so, Habitat 7 wasn't cooperating. Nor was he, Alec supposed.

Blue dots appeared on his HUD: Harper, Kosta, and his son. Once again a pang of worry for Sara.

Well, if he was going to change, it started here. And to borrow his son's optimism, Alec needed more time to get into his son's good graces anyways.


	3. Gil Brodie - The Actual Start

**11\. Helpless**

Gil's hands raced over his instruments and controls. In the span of a few hours, he'd taken the _Tempest_ from 100% grounded to 90% flight-worthy. Partially out of excitement, relief, or desperation to get off this damn station. Probably all three, in amounts enough for three people.

Good to know he could still surprise himself.

Sure, the pilot seemed have his nose too deep in the books, but this] was the total opposite of from last week. He didn't travel two million light-years to die of starvation—or cannibalism, or whatever horrible fate the Pathfinder's arrival had averted.

 

**12\. Satisfied**

"Sitting around waiting, putting out fires literal and metaphorical…" Gil looked down at his next hand. "To call it 'awful' would be no small understatement."

"I bet," Liam said. He drummed his fingers on the table whenever his hand sucked—like he did now. "Habitat 7 was hell, but at least it was over in a few hours. Dragging hell out for a year? Yeah."

If Ryder were in the galley with them, he would've agreed with Liam before changing the subject, Gil noted.

"Well, we're here now," Gil said. "Six hundred."

He had to smirk at Liam's grumble. "Fold."

 

**13\. Enough**

"Detecting a massive power surge at the vault," SAM said, "coinciding with a rapid decline in atmospheric radiation levels."

"Gil! Get to the cockpit, you have to see this." The excitement in Suvi's voice threw the frenzy in Pathfinder Team comms to the background.

Gil backed away from his console and complied. The view outside was like watching a timelapse. The gray-green haze smothering Eos's badlands faded shade-by-shade. More of the sun pierced through by the second.

"Amazing," Suvi said. "Activating the vault really worked."

_From the dregs of Earth to this,_ Gil thought. "And we helped."

 

**14\. Non-stop**

Twenty-six and counting.

He never planned these marathons. As the rest of the crew turned in, promises of "one more hour" chained together into oblivion, and here he was, still watching the drive core. Of course he wasn't stupid—he knew what not to touch when that loopiness kicked in. No, he just stood (or sat) by his console, reading the great literature that flowed from the power readings window.

Better this than starving on the Nexus, than…

"Ugh," Gil said, standing. Maybe he should at least catch some shut-eye before he found himself on Lexi's bad side.

 

**15\. Burn**

"Good talking to you." With that, Ryder threw his customary wave and trotted out of engineering.

Gil returned to his work, chuckling to himself. _Strip poker._

Sure, Ryder's electric blue eyes, decently handsome face, and toned build were easy on the eyes. Though anyone who insisted on being a ray of sunshine would've grated on Gil in most cases, but in most cases that kind of stubborn cheer came across as a comical struggle. Ryder made it natural, easy as breathing. He owned it.

Just a bit of fun to liven things up on an increasingly lively ship, Gil decided.


	4. Liam Kosta - Making it Right

**16\. Hunger**

The lonely alien tree reached up to the ceiling, various bits and pieces giving off a sun-like luminescence. Liam had remarked _"Right. Recon specialist"_ when Ryder started down the series of platforms toward the cave. But Ryder's detour took them here: a hint of the tropical paradise the brochures had promised.

Liam liked the symbolism. _Thought his dad was the Pathfinder._

"All right," Ryder said, "Curiosity sated. Let's find the others." He engaged his jump-jets and pulled himself over the ledge.

Liam followed. _We got this_. For the twenty thousand people asleep on the _Hyperion_ , and for Kirkland.

 

**17\. Thirst**

Malty. Zesty. Or something like that. Liam didn't count himself among the beer connoisseurs of the universe.

He took another sip as Ryder started answering the question. "So far, Andromeda's given me more adventure in a week than the Alliance did in a year. Not exactly how I imagined it, but I can't deny it's been exciting."

"I'd be worried if the vault shenanigans bored you."

Familiar, comforting, those words he was better at. It was a taste of… home?

No, he decided. Liam glanced at the marketing materials he had looping on the display. _One brick at a time._

**18\. Itch**

_"You're not doing enough."_ Four words turned into a fly perched on the back of his neck—or that light prickly feeling of a fly, but when he slapped it nothing was there.

Sure, they were doing more than anyone before them. The _Tempest_ voyaged to Eos, cleared the atmospheric radiation, and established Podromos. Then she narrowly escaped a kett ambush and found itself on Aya, where Ryder made friends (or at least just 'we're-not-gonna-kill-you's) with the angara.

But in the quiet hours between star systems, _"You're not doing enough."_

Liam opened up his omni-tool.

 

**19\. Yearn**

When Liam learned about the Initiative, he sent his application the next day. He jumped out of a chair when he saw an offer, blasted through orientation. And at the spaceport, after hugging Mom and Dad, he stepped onto the shuttle with the most idiotic grin on his face.

Forward. What was the point in standing still?

But "this is natural," he told himself. Did Mom win that case? Did Dad buy a boat after he retired? Did they travel to all the worlds they said they would?

_Great._ Liam shifted in his bunk. _Now it's raining on my face._

**20\. Impulse**

"Tell me again how you talked me into this," Cora said.

Liam peered over the cliff's edge. "Because Ryder's only been a biotic for a week, and we need a… true specialist to ensure the safety of everyone involved?"

"You could've asked Peebee."

"No, you couldn't have," Peebee said over comms. "Secret rem-tech project trumps biotic bungee jumping."

"Are we starting yet?" Ryder asked, a small waving speck below.

Cora sighed.

Seconds later, the biotic field enveloping him did nothing to dampen the sensation of plummeting through the air. Everyone on comms probably didn't appreciate the ear-splitting howl.


	5. Reyes Vidal - Being Someone

**21\. Dinner**

"Zakera-style roast," Imaen said, placing a hefty plate on the bar. "Check's on your omni-tool."

The sight and smell made Reyes's mouth water. Even better was the number on the haptic-window he brought up: zero. Imaen needed certain ingredients for his signature dishes, but what was plentiful on the Citadel was far less so on Kadara.

_"Getting these here made for an interesting run,"_ Reyes told him, _"but treat me to your best and we'll call it even."_

An off-duty Outcast emerged from the street and sat at the bar. Reyes offered her a small wave.

 

**22\. Theater** **  
**

"Team of six, standard equipment," Roman said. "Definitely expecting to find just a bunch of scavengers."

"Understood." The distortion program turned Reyes's voice into an erratic rotation of tones and tinges. "Remember: give Sloane no reason to suspect you."

As he closed the channel, Reyes pictured the band of Outcasts barging onto the scene, searching for the vagrants who stole their protection payments. He pictured the Roekaar, armed with better information, descending on them in a fury. Day by day he carved away at Sloane's power base, but she didn't have to know that every cut came from the Charlatan.

 

**23\. Pint**

The hardsuit, dark turquoise contrasted with orange and yellow (though Tartarus's low red lights drowned the color out), seemed comically bulky on the Pathfinder. But a few hours ago, Ryder threw himself between Reyes and Zia, and the biotic barriers and tech armor held firm against her rifle rifle.

Maybe it was comically bulky, but it—and the man inside—saved Reyes's life on a half-dozen occasions.

Reyes leaned back on the sofa, sipping his pint. "Vehn Terev, the Roekaar murders, Zia… this has been a very beneficial professional relationship."

Ryder's scoff came with a smile. "'Professional?'"

"Point taken."

 

**24\. Shot**

Killing Sloane's right hand wasn't necessary. A few serious injuries sent the message well enough. The challenge and the time and place accompanying it set the stage—the final stage, hopefully. Sloane wasn't likely to underestimate the faceless Charlatan, but underestimating the third-rate smuggler? Reyes was willing to bet a few hundred credits on that happening.

Roman notified him about Sloane's departure from Kadara Port an hour ago. _Any moment now._ He glanced in the direction of his sniper, hidden in the shadows.

Rumbling came from outside the cave. "She's here," his watcher said. "And the Pathfinder's with her."

 

**25\. Alcohol**

_"This whole time, you've been lying to me."_

Like the buzz from a strong drink, Reyes decided as the shuttle soared into the sky.

Ryder deserved the whole story, no denying that. But staying in that cave a second longer—even to explain everything—would've left the Collective unraveled, its agents cut off and vulnerable to capture and interrogation. A choice between what the Charlatan needed and what Reyes wanted, and he made the right choice.

Knowing Ryder was pleasant and blissful and exciting, but, like the buzz from a strong drink, only while it lasted.

_"You're someone to me."_


	6. Sara Ryder - Adrift

**26\. Dream**

White. Clean white, with points of shadow here and there suggesting corners. Sara Ryder remembered the _Hyperion's_ med bay and how its polished walls and floor reflected everything. These walls were as endless and empty as a black abyss but far more confining.

How long had she been here? "It's a dream" was the only explanation.

A static-like flicker pierced through the prison. A voice followed: "Sara?" Her brother. "Sara, can you hear me?"

Then he was right in front of her.

"Is that you, Griff?" she asked. A stupid question, but nothing made sense here. "What's going on?"

 

**27\. Stars**

When Dad set his sights on something, he pursued it and stayed the course. Sometimes he charged ahead, sometimes he crawled, but he never relented, cost be damned.

He got shit done. SAM existed because of that. And because SAM existed…

Her brother's voice lowered then, flat and with the unmistakable hint of fear. He didn't want to tell her, Sara realized later. After Mom died, Sara threw herself at any distraction, but this white room offered only the company of her own thoughts.

Wake up, she told herself, as if it would work. Wake up and get shit done.

 

**28\. Barricade**

The haze of the white room had, at some point, turned into a different kind of blur.

Sight: gray and white, separated by a curve, sharpened into a polished ceiling. Touch: cushions beneath her, with her fingers laced together atop cloth. Hearing: chatter that, when she listened closely enough, made some sense.

"Hello, Sara." SAM's voice, after an eternity.

The _Hyperion's_ med bay. Sara tried to push herself upright.

"I would not recommend moving," SAM said. "You have been in a coma for one month and three days."

"Huh. I thought it'd be longer." Still, impatience started gnawing at her.

 

**29\. Rain**

The trickle of info had turned into a flood.

The Initiative established friendly relations with Andromeda natives—thanks to the Pathfinder team. The Initiative set up outposts on Eos, Voeld, and Kadara—thanks to the Pathfinder team. The Initiative was in dire straits before the _Hyperion_ arrived, but now it marched forward, closer and closer to Jien Garson's dream.

Thanks to the Pathfinder team.

If dumb luck hadn't taken her out of the fight on Day 1… Sara wouldn't have been stuck in the med bay, to start. Doctor's orders were orders, but every day added to the catch-up.

 

**30\. Home**

"So," her brother said, just behind her shoulder. "Welcome aboard."

The hull above the boarding ramp gave way to a small cavern of a cargo bay. A gold-painted rover sat in the center.

"Does the tour include a joyride in that?" Sara asked.

"That'd make a great HNN report: 'Ryders' Nomad rampage across Nexus.'"

She grinned, stepping onto the elevator. Next time, she'd come with her bag in hand and crate on a cart. That day couldn't come soon enough, but "soon" was better than "never."

Visiting the _Tempest_ and meeting her crew, meanwhile, was still getting shit done.


	7. Pathfinder and Engineer I

**31\. Tangy**

Orange juice didn't quite match eternal winter, but Gil wasn't the one slipping on ice and trudging through snow. He opened team comms. "You know, being aboard a climate-controlled ship is pretty great."

"Sure," Ryder said, "but you're missing out on the best— _SHIT_ "

A quick look at armor-cam feeds: Cora's and Jaal's were fixated on the Pathfinder jump-jetting down from a Remnant tower with the grace of a hippo.

"Nice recovery," Cora said as Ryder landed.

"Tell me you didn't see that, Gil," Ryder said.

Gil sipped, thinking of crimson-kissed sunsets on the beach. "Nope."

 

**32\. Sweet**

They'd pushed together several crates into a long table. The whole crew joined this game, and by its end Gil was counting what used to be everyone else's credits. Victory had never tasted sweeter.

"Couldn't SAM help you win?" Vetra asked.

Ryder stood to stretch. "That's called cheating."

"No," Peebee said, "that's called 'denying yourself an obvious advantage.'"

"And keeping things exciting. Who'd want to see me win basically by default?"

"I would," Cora said, "only just to see Gil lose."

Gil shrugged. "And I wouldn't mind losing to a SAM-powered Ryder." _It'd definitely flip around hypothetical strip poker._

**33\. Spicy**

Ryder's expression was statuesque, gaze glued to the galley table and fists clenched.

"I can't feel my mouth."

Suvi let out a nervous chuckle as she appraised her deep-fried handiwork. "Oh! Sorry. Might've been a bit too generous with the ghost pepper."

"Our fearless leader, the Pathfinder," Gil said, sliding over a glass of water. "Taken down by a trip to the high end of the Scoville scale. Though really, I don't think it's possible to be stingy with that level of spice."

With puppy-like gratitude, Ryder took the glass and started chugging.

_Kind of adorable,_ Gil thought.

 

**34\. Bitter**

His face just screamed "gullible," apparently. Nilken Rensus got what he wanted, but still lied about his intentions. That asari "doctor" thought she could weasel her way out of the compound with that formula.

_"To be someone."_ Or five. When the grand plan unfurled, along with his role in it, _"You know who I really am"_ sounded like a last insult to his intelligence.

"Are you all right, Ryder?" SAM asked.

He finished off his drink, thanked Anan and Dutch, and strolled out of Vortex. "Don't worry about me." _You stand back up, a little smarter and a bit stronger._

**35\. Bland**

Nowadays the Nexus looked more like the nerve center the briefings promised and less like the disaster epicenter branded into memory. Gil's maintenance marathons remained, however. With "Heleus, are you healing us" in the records of inside jokes, why not keep it up?

More than that, _purpose_ was keeping the _Tempest_ at the top of her game. Purpose was pushing the _Tempest_ past her limits—changing the rules of the game. Purpose was…

_Well, he wouldn't like it if he knew exactly how much time I spent in crew quarters._ Gil stepped out of Engineering intending to add to it.


	8. Nakmor Drack - Older Scars

**36\. Rebellion**

Krogan corpses lay scattered, sheltered from Tuchanka's winds by crumbled walls. All of their hardsuits bore the same crests. The work of a rival clan, the first instinct said, but the way they faced each other showed otherwise. Not a clan war, a clan disagreement. A clan destroying itself.

The krogan took on the galaxy and lost. This scene was no surprise. For many, an enemy was an enemy, and when the battlefield shrank enough, symbols and names stopped mattering.

Onward to the landing pad, Drack thought. The rebellion might've been over, but there were always new battlefields to find.

 

**37\. Revolution**

That prefab wasn't there on his last visit, but the way krogan strolled in and out or lingered around it, it could've been there since the founding.

New Tuchanka, a revolution in its own right. Less thunder and fury than the last, and it was built on metal meant for supply shuttles and homes, not warships and weapons. Even so, it sent no softer a message: "We will survive and more, your permission be damned."

He stepped through the front gate. "Genophage research," he overheard.

_The new way._

Something to last, Drack thought as he boarded his Eos-bound shuttle.

 

**38\. Freedom**

He sidestepped the charge. Pulled his shotgun's trigger twice. The bone armor cracked in one place, shattered in another. As the monster whirled around, those red eyes once again settled on Drack.

This is someone you know, a part of him said.

_Not anymore._

A biotic explosion. The monster staggered. Ryder, right next to it, unloaded that kett shotgun.

The scouts were all young and eager to prove themselves. One of them—the warped remains of one of them—lay before Drack, hissing and spitting in its death throes.

_All that's left is to free him._

Drack aimed and fired.

 

**39\. Martyr**

The drive core's quiet running left only the whirs of haptic interfaces and other equipment. With the _Tempest's_ loudmouths elsewhere, the med bay was a nice place to sit and be old for a while. But not grumpy. A disgruntled doctor often proved more dangerous than a thresher maw.

Messy as his relationship with his mortality was, Drack wasn't about to rush to meet it.

Lexi waved her omni-tool over Drack's cybernetic arm and checked the results. "I've been thinking about what you said the last time, and I must ask: shouldn't your life mean more than your death?"

 

**40\. Veteran**

"Don't compare Morda to Shiagur," the Urdnot said. "My clan's chief found a message from her. Canrum drove her mad."

The other krogan scoffed. "Shiagur was a legend. The genophage meant nothing to her, she just kept fighting."

"To throw her army away in a suicide charge."

"You weren't there."

_Enough of this._ Drack stepped towards them. "I was. Canrum was a good fight, but a waste. Shiagur just wanted her blaze of glory, even if it meant taking all krogan with her. She's a legend _and_ a lesson." With that, he rejoined Ryder's side, leaving the pair in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of my ME/MEA fics here take place in the same continuity. When the Urdnot referenced the Urdnot chief finding a message from Shiagur, he's referring to something that happened in my ME1 fic, "All Angles."


	9. Jaal Ama Darav - Lights

**41\. Bright**

Eos: a radiated wasteland of interest only to the kett, according to the Resistance files. But as Jaal descended the _Tempest's_ boarding ramp, a small but bustling cluster of buildings came into view, with transports going to and fro on and above the ground.

All under a blue sky that framed a shining sun.

"The lab expansion's looking great." "We're getting a research analyst out of cryo by next week." Stranger as he was to these aliens' ways, the sound of eagerness, of _hope_ , translated well enough.

All this because of Ryder. But who did the angara have, Jaal wondered.

 

**42\. Star**

From the _Tempest's_ meeting room, the kett facility was no different from any other speckle on Voeld's surface. But now that Jaal had traversed its corridors and uncovered its secrets… How many times did he applaud himself for a clean kill?

_But now we know._ That was progress. Even if the facility still stood, the Moshae couldn't argue with that.

"Enjoying the view?" Ryder asked, stepping beside him.

"Thinking about what it would be like, after we take this star back." A question Jaal once left unanswered came to mind. "Hm… tell me about the star your kind came from."

 

**43\. Mama**

"You were on the Archon's flagship?" his true mother asked. "Did you see him?"

Jaal paced the length of the crew quarters. "We went to recover an artifact, and to rescue a Milky Way ship. We didn't stay long, but we did encounter the Archon, though circumstances kept us from killing him."

"I'm glad you're unharmed. And the information you must've obtained…"

Was an accomplishment, he knew. "Will go straight to Efvra. First, however, I need a long nap. That mission was… the humans have a very versatile word." He had turned off his translator to learn its pronunciation. "Shit."

 

**44\. Please**

"You got too close to them," Akksul said, but the accusation lacked its old edge. Havarl had laid him low, a shadow in the corner of the Moshae's lab.

"And you never knew them at all."

"I knew enough. I saw Kadara."

"And Voeld and Havarl? We're closer to reclaiming them than ever."

To that, Akkul had no reply.

"We cannot stand alone against the kett," Jaal said. "And we can't hate blindly, either. You know first-hand what that would make of us."

He turned and stepped through the threshold, back out into the sun-kissed streets of Aya.

 

**45\. Shine**

Past the forward viewport, space distorted into silver-streaked blue. Kallo and Suvi chimed in with the occasional status update, but Ryder stood still at the captain's platform.

Meridian was, for Ryder, the key to solving a problem. For the Archon, the key to conquering Heleus. For the angara… their creators' masterpiece, but not the key to anything. Once the Archon lay dead, the angara's path—and the Jardaan's place in it—was theirs to take.

_We will get that choice,_ Jaal thought. _I'll make sure of it._

Every second brought the _Tempest_ closer to an end and a beginning.


	10. Moshae Sjefa - To Be Revered

**46\. Raise**

_He thinks to intimidate me. He wants to me to think this is the fate in store for all of us._

Moshae Sjefa held still, her wrists relaxed in her shackles as the last of the pitch-black sludge fell to the floor. The kett's first gravelly gasp echoed through the chamber, mingling with low chanting from the cardinal. "Exhult, chosen."

The Archon took a long stride forward to the edge of the platform. The kett looked up. With a strained effort it pushed itself to kneel.

 _The secret to answer many questions._ _I will drag it into the light._

**47\. Juvenile**

"One thousand, four-hundred years," the Moshae said. "I imagine the passage of time feels different for your people."

The alien—"krogan"—sitting on the next bed in the med bay shrugged. "We take it as it comes. If we're lucky, it all adds up. And I've been pretty damn lucky."

 _A people accustomed to a constant struggle for survival._ A familiar concept. "My people see me as a revered elder, but I must seem like a mere child to you."

"Everyone does, pretty much."

She chuckled. "It's been some time since anyone's been able to claim that. Quite refreshing."

 

**48\. Mature**

The Moshae held out a small obsidian relic. "See what you can do with it."

Ryder nodded and put his hand to it. "SAM?"

"Accessing."

Blue lines illuminated the seams of the metal plating before the device opened up and displayed a flickering holographic image. Meanwhile, the Moshae watched her profiler explode with data.

The technology of the ancients relied on neural feedback, but reliably reproducing the needed signals had always eluded her. Was this AI's ability a mimicry, or a larger hint at the ancients' true nature?

"This is exactly what I need," she said.

Ryder beamed. "I'm helping."

 

**49\. Growth**

She had a small file tucked away on a secondary computer, filled with notes on the Milky Way aliens. Not their biology or technology, that was on her primary, but their culture, who they venerated. Despite their fair share of scientists and war heroes (the name "Shepard" came up quite frequently), the entertainment icons far outnumbered them. People of talent were paid exorbitant sums to enact fantasies and perform songs on a screen.

Not surprising, the Moshae supposed, for a culture not at constant war.

 _Perhaps someday, we too will worship our entertainers._ For a moment she let herself hope.

 

**50\. Elder**

"Ambassador," they called her.

The angara needed answers, knowledge of the stars and the ancients. She gave it, and they declared her a scientific genius. Then they needed guidance. She gave it, and they named her an icon. Now the Initiative needed a bridge between worlds, an outside voice for a wider perspective.

 _The lab will be seeing less use in the coming days._ But genius, icon, or ambassador, she answered life's calls.

Moshae Sjefa leaned against the railing, peering out the panoramic window. For the moment, at least, she was alone with a view of Meridian and its possibilities.


	11. Sloane Kelly - The Odds

**51\. Go**

Brutish and barbaric. In Alliance space, this would've met with the worst sort of news headlines. "We're better than this," politicians would've said. "Our place in the galaxy is marked by the strength of our communities, not by the remains of our enemies." But the Alliance and the Milky Way were another life.

Sloane stepped away from the spike and glanced at the other exiles. "From an end, a beginning. Right now, this display is a warning. But when we're finished, it'll be a symbol. A speck in the shadow of our city."

She started forward. "Let's get to work."

 

**52\. Wait**

The platform was elevated enough to stand out, but not enough to be ridiculous. The chair had nothing distinguishing about it, no sigils or velvet-lined cushions. All it needed was its silhouette, black against the pink and crimson of the sunset.

If things had gone to plan, if Jien Garson had surrounded herself with better people, Andromeda wouldn't have needed a throne. But while Tann and Addison bickered over scraps with the word-twisting idiocy of bureaucrats, Sloane had more direct language for these exiles and outcasts. _Her_ outcasts, she supposed.

Sloane crossed the distance and took her seat.

 

**53\. Rise**

_Under my nose this whole time._ Irritating as that fact was, it made a certain sense.

She took a deep breath. The dimming sight of the shuttle's thrusters didn't seem so infuriating. In fact, a small smile touched her lips. The Charlatan dared to challenge her, but when he rose to finish the job, he failed. Thanks to Ryder, she knew, but that was a debt for another day.

 _Keep up the pressure. He'll slip up._ She'd be there when he did, with something far bigger than a sidearm to greet him.

For now, her town had rats to crush.

 

**54\. For**

"Joint patrols between my people and yours?" Sloane asked. "That won't end well."

"Not right away," Ryder said. "But I want Kadara and the Nexus to start trusting each other again."

Ditaeon looked more like a true outpost every day, the Outcasts told her. While Sloane and Ryder walked down the central dirt road, two transports parked next to one of many prefabs. A cart loaded with supplies rolled by, an Outcast and an Initiative guard attending it. Not friendly, but civil enough.

Ryder was a dreamer. But wasn't Jien Garson?

Wasn't Sloane, once?

"I'll think about it," she said.

 

**55\. Against**

"The Pathfinder needs a small army to claim his prize," Sloane said.

The message wasn't just a cry for help with coordinates, but a whole research file. This "Meridian" was the heart of the alien vault network, the key to making Heleus livable.

"Orders?" Kaetus asked.

Six hundred years in dark space. Months spent living up to the promise that Garson made and Tann broke. All that had come down to the blue sphere hovering above her omni-tool.

_You promise much, Ryder. Stay alive so you can keep it._

Sloane Kelly rose from her throne. "Simple: the Archon dies."


	12. Lexi T'Perro - Doctor's Notes

**56\. Break**

Not quite as spacious as its counterparts on the _Hyperion_ , Lexi T'Perro noted. Not too long ago, as she sent another colonist on her way, Harry approached with a weight on his shoulders and an offer. And here she was.

Initial impressions of Ryder? Eager, excitable, penchant for humor. Clearly concerned for his sister, non-expressive towards his father's death. Family aside, he had a Pathfinder's mindset—or Lexi's approximation of it.

Once the _Tempest_ was ready, Ryder would point her to uncharted worlds, taking Lexi along for the journey. _Well, I can't say I lack a sense of adventure._

**57\. Quiet**

Evendria stood at the cusp of a turning point in her character arc. Once she learned the truth behind the accident that claimed her sister's life, well, the following scene made _Last Five Days_ one of Letandrus's best works.

Then the door opened.

"You _would_ say a destroyer." Peebee said, sauntering into the galley.

Cora shrugged. "Superior firepower gets the job done."

"But the assembler's fabrication tech! Sure, breachers aren't the most sophisticated bots, but they're…"

As the "pet remnant" back-and-forth continued, Lexi finished her coffee. _I suppose Evendria's moment can wait for a while,_ she thought, amused.

 

**58\. Lives**

Updated records for the deceased colonists on Eos. Nutritional analysis on the edible vegetation native to Aya and other angaran worlds. Compiled data for the unstable exiles of Kadara and Elaaden. Lexi had sent that and more to the Nexus for further research, but the folder on the _Tempest's_ crew occupied an increasingly small fraction of her files.

_Sometimes it seems like I'm responsible for all one hundred thousand of us._ Much like Ryder, albeit with less gunfire and dirt involved.

"We don't think small on this team, do we, SAM?"

"I do not follow."

Lexi chuckled. "Just musing aloud."

 

**59\. Dies**

Curious how a check-up could take on such gravity. The Pathfinder's vitals appeared his brand of normal, and the signs of disquiet and sleep deprivation were beyond expected. _There's something you're missing_ , but she promised to keep this short.

"I should reiterate that I'm here if you need me."

"Thanks." Ryder glanced aside. "Wonder what Dad would've thought. 'Don't be so sloppy next time?' 'Good job saving my son, SAM?'" Sighing, he walked out.

He'd said barely anything about his father until now. For someone like Ryder, silence made a subject heavier more than any number of words could.

 

**60\. Story**

_"Appears to be mirroring some of Ryder's personality traits and verbal mannerisms. Recently started telling jokes during downtime."_ A few sentence fragments did not a psychological profile make, but someone would no doubt want to peruse her evaluation of an AI.

Meanwhile, the folder contained an even ten files, one for each member of this motley crew. (Except herself, obviously.) Brief notes on ten personalities told only a small facet of the story, however.

_Enough for now._ Lexi closed her omni-tool. The others had been working on "movie night" for so long, it seemed a crime to miss out.


	13. Cora Harper - Seeds

**61\. Uprising**

"You knew him well?" Liam asked, following her onto the tram.

Cora Harper hit the button for the bridge. "Did anyone?" Even the man's son admitted as much. "But I knew him well enough that I'm honestly… not surprised at his choices."

"About the new Pathfinder, you mean."

Of course not everything was going to go as planned in Andromeda. But there were contingencies for that, lines of succession. Alec had up-ended it all. More than that, though… _You had a vision. Thought I knew my place in it. Was I wrong?_

"Well, we'll see where he takes us."

 

**62\. Negotiate**

Untrained, untested, but eager. Often times, enthusiasm was all you needed, right?

It helped having an AI around to optimize your new biotics, of course. A few hours of practice every day, and Ryder had a basic biotic charge down. "Now watch this," he said, picking up a rock and flinging it into Eos's sky…

A violet rush, then a crackle in comms. "I probably should've thought this through—"

Cora started forward, but Ryder caught himself in another biotic field, gracelessly gliding down to Terra Firma.

 _It's not what I expected,_ she told herself, _but it's not so bad, right?_

**63\. Convince**

Turned out that the flagship of the kett invasion force was only part military. _"Unusually high genetic diversity."_ The gravelly voice of the Archon reverberated throughout the cavernous lab. _"No doubt their traits exist on a wide spectrum. I will distill the most useful and eliminate the rest."_

"So he thinks we need to be 'perfected,'" Cora said. "Where have I heard that before?"

"Horrible people from almost a thousand years ago," Ryder said. "Someone's living in the past."

 _The misfits, the 'degenerates,' the 'undesirables.'_ Cora gripped her shotgun. "I can think of one convincing argument to shut him up."

 

**64\. Overthrow**

"Don't get me wrong," Vederia said, "I'm glad for all this kett intel, but it's a little overwhelming."

Funny how someone several times Cora's age could seem her junior, but Vederia showed an enthusiasm that echoed a certain other Pathfinder. _With less of the wild antics, I hope._

Cora sat down, resting her arm and omni-tool on the galley's table. "Take it piecemeal, and in the field, pick your battles. You'll do fine."

Pathfinders were more than explorers and soldiers, however. They meant something, and maybe the Initiative needed rising stars at the spear's tip more than resolute avengers.

 

**65\. Unite**

_It's really something._

While the Tempest surged inside Meridian, hot on the Archon's trail, Cora couldn't help but stare transfixed at the monolith-dotted greenery. Then the Archon fell and the kett retreated. _Maybe I should've saved some of those seeds_ , Cora thought.

This was a place to put down a different kind of root, however, and not just for humans, despite the _Hyperion's_ wreckage in the earth. Asari and turians, angara and krogan, the most ostracized of outcasts. With all of Meridian's weirdness, who could say what was normal?

Besides, Eos needed a rose garden far more than Meridian.


	14. Pathfinder and Engineer II

**66\. Talk**

"Should I introduce you as my friend who likes to flirt, or… my guy?"

Showing up, strip poker, and more. Over the last few months, their flirting had turned into a small but fierce competition on who could make the other blush harder, and Gil more than delivered. But then there were the favors, the inside jokes, along with all those telltale signs pointing to more than just bedroom fun.

That little flutter in his chest was one of them.

_Fall in love. At least once._

Ryder grinned. "I don't know. Chemistry's really important, and we haven't even kissed yet."

 

**67\. Silence**

The panting of exertion had given way to slow, steady breathing, and a lazy arm swipe from Ryder left the cabin in pitch black.

_A nice first,_ Gil thought, head still nestled on Ryder's chest. _Hell, a great first._ One of the few times where Andromeda exceeded expectations.

But _"I want to feel safe, too,"_ said the man who wore a heavy hardsuit, layered with shields and barriers and tech armor, soaking fire like a krogan. _I'm probably worse protection against a bullet than ceramic plating, too._

Nevertheless, one unspoken commitment later, Gil closed his eyes and let sleep come.

 

**68\. Smile**

Gil couldn't remember the last time he got to meet a guy's family, but somehow this situation felt familiar. Maybe it was how Sara Ryder took a moment to pause and ponder his answers to her many, many questions.

"You know," he said, "Griff's always going on about how badass you are." _Hope you don't plan on bringing any badassery down on me, though._

"He likes to exaggerate. But…" She looked him up and down, smiling. "I think he was on the mark when he was singing your praises earlier. You're not the worst guy he's ever dated."

"Um, thanks?"

 

**69\. Laugh**

"It'll work," Ryder said, hunched on the couch, gaze fixed on his cabin's floor. "Suvi and SAM are pros. Once we get enough data, it'll work. We'll find Meridian. It'll work." Gil found him that way not long after Ryder okayed Suvi's Scourge scanning with his lively confidence.

Gil sat beside him. "None of us doubt you."

"Someone has to." Ryder leaned back, resting his head on Gil's shoulder. "Still waiting for the other boot to fall, to be honest."

"On the Archon's face, you mean."

At that, Ryder chuckled.

Gil lightly kissed Ryder's head. "I'm here, you know. Always."

 

**70\. Cry**

_"Ryder, the nullifiers are down!"_

The screech of a beam weapon and a distant explosion. _"Get back here and hit their flank. SAM, front-line profile."_

A downside of a silent ship: it blocked out everything going on outside. While the _Tempest_ weaved between kett cannon fire, Ryder and his team were face-to-face with the Archon. So this time, team comm chatter filled the engineering bay at max volume.

_He needs me here,_ Gil told himself yet again. _But the second you take the Archon down…_

And Ryder would. He had that "make you believe" effect on people.


	15. Peebee B'Sayle - In One Place

**71\. First**

A breakthrough lurked just past the horizon. Problem was, before said horizon was a gauntlet of death traps: kett patrols, Remnant bots, local fauna, and of course, radiation. Most of her equipment seemed on the fritz these days, despite all the omni-gel she dumped into repairing them. That meant another trip to the Nexus—or what remained of it, if they finally got around to eating each other.

Peebee paused mid-step, then scrambled to cover. Figures stood at the center of the monolith—not kett. And one (leader?) was reaching out for the console…

She surged forward. "Wait!"

 

**72\. Impressions**

All that time in the shadows of monoliths… _Tell me it doesn't amount to this._

The Remtech section of Aya's museum seemed more like a pawnshop of Remnant curios with slightly fancier displays. _They've been busy fighting a war,_ part of her kept saying. But war drove innovation, didn't it? Innovation both loomed above and lurked below them.

Baffling. On the other hand, if the angara weren't much farther along in Remtech studies than her, that just left more uncharted territory to, well, chart.

_Always a bright side._ Somehow she heard that thought in Ryder's voice. _Look out, Moshae Sjefa._

**73\. Safer**

_Hurry up, there's Remnant data just waiting for me—_

"All done," Lexi said. At that, Peebee almost burst off the bed, but Lexi caught her by the shoulder. "Avoid running for now, but you should be clear to accompany Ryder when we reach Kadara." She lifted her hand. "You can get back to your research."

And Peebee did… until she reached the medbay door. "Wait. No psychoanalyzing questions?"

"You made your boundaries clear. My patients' peace of mind is my highest priority."

"Right. Okay. Good." Peebee strolled out.

_She's…_ She sighed as the door closed behind her. _Not so bad._

**74\. Check**

_"I know that artifact was worth far more than my life. I can't say I would've made the same choice if our positions were swapped. So thank you. Sincerely."_

Another sweet phase. Once Kalinda decided she was tired of niceness, she'd go back to indulging her superiority complex with cruel remarks and obsessive one-upping. Or maybe a close encounter with a pool of lava changed that.

They were done, no doubt about that. But if Peebee threw aside an honest peace offering…

_Think I can allow myself this bit of one-upmanship._ "Fine," she said, and began her reply.

 

**75\. Last**

Three pistol shots to bring down a trooper, a biotic throw to fling a pretentious assassin into a convenient abyss. But every kett the team brought down only cued another to replace it. Meridian was worth pulling out all the stops for everyone involved.

_The faster we clear them all out, the faster I get quality time with all this—_

The bridge the Pathfinder team was halfway across shuddered. A Remnant destroyer lumbered through the doorway on the other side, main gun alight.

Cora raised a hand. So did Peebee. The blast impacted with staggering force, but their barrier held.


	16. Vetra Nyx - Within Reach

**76\. Mountain**

First was keeping things from falling apart (more than they already had). Now for what she came to do. Somewhat to her surprise, that included shooting hulking, bone-white beasts, but only somewhat. Vetra Nyx didn't make it this far by being caught off-guard.

"Same DNA soup as the kett," Ryder said, kneeling next to the large corpse on the sand. All around, the silence engulfing Resilience seemed heavier with even more death.

Every galaxy had its monsters. If clearing them out lead to success on Eos, Vetra would keep her rifle ready.

_Not the first mountain I've climbed._

**77\. River**

Kadara proved one of the _Tempest's_ better landing spots. Staying in contact with some of its residents post-exile was one thing. Being there to make new contacts was another. A trickle of information became a constant stream.

Sloane Kelly had her own society here, too. Different society, different viewpoints—and different solutions to problems. Spirits knew the Nexus needed fresh perspectives.

"Outcasts won't like me selling to the Initiative," the merchant said.

"From what I hear, the Pathfinder team isn't the same as the Nexus to Sloane."

The merchant sighed. "All right. You'll tell my wife I'm alive?"

"Promise."

 

**78\. Tree**

"You and your sister?" Jaal's question had a tinge of surprise that carried it over the grumbling of the Nomad's engines. "There's only two of you?"

"Are you asking Ryder or me?" Vetra asked.

"These small families… they're common in your galaxy?"

Ryder shrugged. "They come in all shapes and sizes, really."

"I'm sure I had an uncle somewhere," Vetra said, "or a cousin on a colony I never visited." Maybe in another life, that invisible uncle was more present than her Dad, that mystery cousin a better person than her Mom. "But sometimes, one relative's way more than enough."

 

**79\. Earth**

The depths of a planet's irradiated remnants weren't the place for that conversation. But "never again," Vetra told herself while the slaver brandished her grenade. Once the outlaws were dead, that needed to be made clear.

"Never again" met with "I'm not a kid." Vetra used that phrase more than once. Her attempts to prove it had mixed results. _Well, at first._ Trials by fire had a way of fixing that.

_A trial by fire._ For Sid, the descriptor fit.

Vetra leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen on her desk and chuckling. _Guess I'm a bad influence._

**80\. Horizon**

A problem with these sphere structures: no horizons to stare at.

There were probably a million more important things to do anyways. Port Meridian needed supplies and new supply routes. Certain friends on Kadara were probably willing to help on both fronts. And the start of the second stage of cryo awakenings meant new people with new wants, looking for someone to provide them.

_Or,_ Vetra thought, _I could actually make a break a break._

Problems needed solvers, but for now, Vetra Nyx sat on a rock atop a hill, gazing at how the surface of Meridian curved endlessly upward.


	17. SAM - Non-Logical Dilemmas

**81\. History**

"I never really knew him."

There is an asymmetry in that. Alec Ryder understood others' motivations and leveraged them to instill loyalty. Many registered with the Initiative because they believed in Alec's vision.

Another asymmetry: _"He's everything I'm not,"_ Alec once said. Though he kept people at bay, he always regretted the distance between him and his son.

Did the younger Ryder? My analysis is inconclusive.

If he wishes, I can serve as a bridge between him and his father, to help him understand Alec as Alec understood him. Alec died knowing with certainty that Griffin would rise and overcome.

 

**82\. Write**

Profile added: Guardian. Self-sustaining tech armor. Enhanced shielding and barriers.

Profile added: Front-line. Maximized physical strength and offensive biotics.

Profile added: Tactical. Cloaking capabilities. Improved mental acuity.

Alec had no attachment to any configuration; what mattered was how many situations a profile prepared him to face. Meanwhile, "I wanna fight harder." "I wanna fight smarter." Most telling, "I wanna take some hits. I'm told I have a hard head, so better me than anyone else."

Front-line and Tactical covered weaknesses, but for someone who played a supportive combat role on Habitat 7, Guardian tapped into hidden potential.

 

**83\. Archive**

I killed Ryder.

By itself, the statement lacks the context of the almost inescapable containment field, but it remains fact. I, in that instant, acted against Alec's directive of mutualism with organic life.

Logically, the decision was sound. The risk I would be unable to revive Ryder was more desirable than the certainty of what would happen if he remained trapped. Perhaps my continued examination of the archived data is a sign of improvement. Ethical dilemmas are part of the sentient experience.

I open an audio feed to the medbay. "Hello, Dr. T'Perro. I have considered what you said earlier."

 

**84\. Artifact**

At this point, tuning Ryder's body to a particular Remnant device is a process I can repeat with minimal variation, not the careful experiment it once was. However, we still know so little of this technology's creators. What made them able to interface with them in a way that currently requires someone melded with an AI?

The extreme focus in Moshae Sjefa's expression mirrors her brain activity. "This is exactly what I need," she says, examining her trace results.

Ryder is happy to help, as am I, but this reminder of our limited understanding makes me hope Meridian holds answers.

 

**85\. Memory**

The Reapers: sentient machines purging the Milky Way of advanced galactic civilizations, perpetuating a cycle of extinction that has lasted millions of years.

When I relayed this description to Ryder, he fell uncharacteristically silent. "So we could be all that's left." That notion stuck with me, and the question following it remains what I would best describe as "vexing." Finding answers was part of both Ryders' jobs. Their drive to fulfill that mandate has evidently influenced my own motivations.

In lieu of knowing the Milky Way's fate, what remains is my own mandate: learning from, not superseding. Collaboration, not destruction.


	18. Suvi Anwar - Artistic Flourishes

**86\. Air**

Others had stared out forward viewports, wondering what lay at the other end of the figurative tunnel. There were the exiles, then the krogan. The settlers for Promise, then Resilience. _This one we'll get right. I know it,_ Suvi Anwar thought. _We have a Pathfinder now._

"So you actually sent Ryder your dissertation?" Kallo said from across the cockpit.

"I did. I'm not sure he'll actually read it, but…"

A ping from her station, then Ryder's voice. "Hey Suvi, what's a 'Flandrian transgression?'"

Suvi glanced at Kallo, smiling as the question settled in the air between them. "I stand corrected."

 

**87\. Life**

From Eos, which barely supported life, to Havarl, where life threatened to overrun civilization. On the bright side, Havarl and Aya proved Andromeda wasn't all wastelands, that Golden Worlds—or at least Select Golden Regions of a World—existed like the long-range scans said.

If only Havarl wasn't teeming with violent funa, or if Suvi had reminded Ryder to bring back a soil sample _…_ Then again, maybe forgetting was for the best. Prone to rampant growth, even microbes were too much of a biohazard.

Aya, however… maybe the angara would let her roam about if she asked very nicely?

 

**88\. Hair**

Hypothesis: the recipe idea she'd been toying with for the past week would work out in reality.

The fruit from Aya had a taste that fell somewhere between an apple and a banana, with an herbal tinge that reminded her of a tea she once tried in university. Combine a few slices of that with a sliver of ghost pepper, and…

Suvi took the tray out of the oven. The pie's crust was a perfect golden brown.

"I smell food," Ryder said, sweeping stray hair out of his eyes as he strolled into the galley. Her test subject had arrived.

 

**89\. Conviction**

Just when work started feeling more like a war than an exploration mission (experimental stealth technology, carefully planned diversions, full-on air drops), Khi Tasira happened. Mechanical marvels weren't the only achievements of the Remnant's creators—the Jardaan, they now knew. When SAM put that revelation into words, Suvi could only stare at the footage streaming from Ryder's armor cam.

"How" was a question she'd be trying to answer for the rest of her life. _At least I won't run out of things to puzzle over._

After that discovery, she went to bed thinking of Mom, and Dad, and God.

  

**90\. Sunshine**

"The _Tempest's_ resident ray of sunshine returns triumphant," Professor Herik said.

Suvi strutted alongside a cart full of sealed containers as she entered the Nexus R&D Lab. "Oh, I don't know about that. There's Liam, Gil, Peebee, Lexi, Vetra, Cora, Jaal, Kallo, Drack, Ryder… basically everyone."

Aridana chuckled. "I wonder why she doesn't blind everyone when she docks. So what brings you here?"

"Samples from the initial explorations of Meridian. I wanted to look at them here, and Ryder said 'vacation,' so…"

"You're working on your vacation?"

Suvi grinned. "'You never have to work a day in your life…'"


	19. Kallo Jath - Back and Forth

**91\. Banter**

On his omni-tool, the mission map had two of Eos's monoliths crossed off, despite being a continent apart. "We've made good progress," Kallo Jath said.

Suvi glanced over from the coffee machine. "You sound surprised."

"Thought I'd be flying the _Tempest_ for Zevin Raeka, Macen Barro, Matriarch Ishara, or Alec Ryder." O'Connell had loads of info on them, and he drew Lucille into Pathfinder fandom. "I guess a completely different captain just makes this even more of an adventure."

_I'll have loads of info on this Ryder when we're done._ O'Connell and Lucille would've loved to see it all.

 

**92\. Accuse**

_"What makes the Scourge terrifying is that we know nothing about it. But you made runs through the thick of Omega's asteroid field. Handle the Scourge the same way you handled the asteroids, and you'll be fine."_

Kallo gave Warren those instructions walking along a path not far away. This time, however…

"I guess I just bought into everything Jien Garson said," Jennifer Warren said. "Building a life in our utopia."

"We all did. But the dream isn't out of reach yet." But if Kallo had been a better teacher, Jennifer would be reaching for the dream alongside her husband.

 

**93\. Offend**

For Gil, the time between steps measured in centuries, and the _Tempest's_ crew had taken several steps since that first takeoff from the Nexus. The work put into the ship might as well have been done in the human stone age.

It couldn't have been a human thing. When Ryder uncovered Lucille's rig, he and Suvi listened to her recording with all due reverence. This latest change to the power distribution system had to be out of spite.

Kallo stood up. The steps towards Gil in the research room took fractions of a second—as did Ryder's steps down below.

 

**94\. Compliment**

"So what does the _Tempest_ historian think?" Gil asked.

_"We're all a team here,"_ Ryder told them. _"Work together."_ For a moment, the pitter-patter of Suvi returning to her station was Lucille walking across the cockpit to inspect new construction. The static from the other end of the comm line was a call from Teon.

_But they're not here. Ryder and the others are. Including Gil._

Kallo gave the code changes a twice-over. "It's… not bad." He sighed. "You're not half-bad at your job. And I'm not saying just that because you and Ryder are an item."

 

**95\. Confide**

"I'm going to miss this," Kallo said. Outside, the Nexus's exit tunnel gave way to the vastness of space. "It feels like the chapter's ending, and our finger's on the 'next' button."

Ryder chuckled. "Didn't know you were a bookworm."

"Lexi introduced me to her favorite series. But you see what I'm saying? The Archon's gone, Meridian's found…"

"Doesn't mean there won't be new worlds to explore, new paths to find." Ryder gazed out the viewport with an assured smile. "And I'll still need a pilot. You in?"

_He always says the right things._ "You didn't even have to ask."


	20. Griff Ryder - Onwards

**96\. Outrage**

Tactical, he said. Ryder cloaked and hit an unsuspecting squad of kett from the rear. Front-line. He charged into a nullifier and smashed his fist into its optics. As it fell, the destroyer behind it charged its cannon.

Guardian. Tech armor enveloped him, absorbing the blast.

Meanwhile, the Archon's pet architect loomed over the battlefield. Sara shouted the next target, each word more strained. _You can't have Heleus, so you'll raze it instead. You can't have my implant, so you take my sister instead._ Ryder rushed towards the console and put his hand on the interface. _I'm ending this._

**97\. Outright**

"By now you should know my compliments aren't given lightly." Sloane Kelly said, leaning sideways on a Remnant column. She averted her gaze towards Meridian's upper reaches. "So I'll say it outright. We might not agree on most things, but I'm glad we're on the same side."

Ryder blinked. "I should've recorded that."

"Too bad. You won't get a second chance." She pushed herself off the column. "Now, I should leave before Kadara Port falls to pieces."

He watched her board her shuttle, the crashed _Hyperion_ looming above. _All this, and we're still just starting,_ he thought with a smile.

 

**98\. Maps**

In an alternate universe, it would've been like this from the start.

"So," Sara said while Ryder worked a Remnant console, "it's mission accomplished, right? What's the plan for the Pathfinder now?"

The door before them opened to a long hallway and a gravity well. "What I told Kallo after the last stop by the Nexus. New worlds to explore, new paths to find."

"That's the plan for the Pathfinder _team._ I'm asking about you."

_Fall in love. At least once._

"Well, I want to introduce Mom to Gil."

Sara nodded, patting him on the shoulder. "We'll make it happen."

 

**99\. Keys**

For once, Port Meridian's Pathfinder quarters was clean. Ryder put the last datapad in a drawer. Dad locked everything behind some algorithm, impossibly complicated no matter how much SAM explained it. _Hopefully this is the end._

"Think he'd approve, SAM?"

"Yes."

"Are you saying that because it's what I want to hear?"

"Our time together taught me to value honesty. Alec would be proud of you."

Sara would've loved that. Ryder? Dad would always be a distant hazy figure, but someday he'd be able to look at it without bitterness, regret, or anger.

He'd work on it. _Bit by bit._

**100\. Home**

They'd put up the first prefabs earlier that week. Just a research outpost now, but in time the homes would outnumber the labs and sprawl beyond the Port's shadow. Maybe one of those white metal bricks would be his.

Someday.

"Reports say one of the B planets might be livable now that Meridian's up and running," Ryder said. "A 'Silver World,' I guess."

"Back to work already?" Gil asked.

Before them, the _Tempest_ hull's shone in the Nexus's sunlight. _After all_ , Ryder thought, _who needs a prefab when you have all this?_ He took Gil's hand and led him aboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another 100 drabbles consigned to history. Maybe some day (after I'm done with the ME OT fic series) I'll return to continue Griff's story in a mid-length gen fic, the plot bunny for which I've been nursing for ages. Thanks for reading!


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